


Written in the Tea Leaves

by DinoDina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divination, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11499507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoDina/pseuds/DinoDina
Summary: Divination is boring, but Oliver's not taking it because it's interesting. He's taking it because his best friend—and secret crush— Percy is taking it, too.





	Written in the Tea Leaves

Oliver comes into the room behind everyone else, since he's had to run to the tallest tower from the Quidditch pitch. It's entirely his own fault—and he knows that—that he used his free period to practice flying and time got away from him.

As he shuffles into the room and finds his seat at one of the back tables, he flashes his table-mate a smile. Percy doesn't return it, looking instead at the teacher, so Oliver sits down and makes himself comfortable, resting his head on his arms and trying to catch his breath.

"…and as I've said before, though many of you continue to try, books can only take you so far in the delicate art of Divination. It is a very special skill indeed to be able to see the future, and only a few are gifted with it. Today we will be using tea leaves… as NEWT students, you are no doubt familiar with the practice." Professor Trelawney trails off, her expression vague. She waves her hands quickly, and says with sudden alertness, "Off you go, then!"

Oliver jerks up just in time to see everyone scramble up to get the tea cups on the front desk. They dutifully line up in front of Trelawney to get them filled, then shuffle back to their seats. It's an old game to them, now, as seventh year students, since they've been reading tea leaves for four years.

Oliver muffles a yawn into his sleeve. He turns to his table partner. "Get me a cup, Perce?"

"I thought you'd still be asleep," Percy says. "Your eyes were closed for the past twenty minutes."

"The first half-hour's always boring," Oliver says matter-of-factly. "And I wasn't sleeping."

"No?"

"I was resting my eyes."

"Of course."

"So," Oliver gives Percy a pleading look, "will you help a friend? Get me a cup?"

Percy huffs. "Get it yourself."

"But you're going there anyway!" Oliver yawns again. "Please?"

"She won't fill two cups for me." Percy says firmly, already moving away from the table. "Get up, it's not that long a walk."

"I want you to drink the tea, then swill the dregs around with the cup in your left hand, turn the cup upside-down, and let your partner read the cup." Trelawney's airy voice washes over the class. "Who hasn't got a cup yet? Mr. Weasley? Mr. Wood?"

Percy nods as she fills his cup, then returns to the table just as Oliver is getting up. Oliver gets his own tea, then comes back and sits, blowing on the too-hot tea.

Percy stops drinking his own tea and looks up. "What?"

"I don't like it so bitter." Oliver makes a disgruntled face..

"You're not drinking it for the taste." Percy rolls his eyes, then grins. "You're drinking it to broaden your mind and awaken your Inner Eye in order to see into the fog that surrounds your future."

Oliver snorts his tea up his nose, then says lightly, "Remind me why I'm in this class, Percy."

"Boys!" Trelawney snaps. "You have to be quiet. Remove yourselves from this place, open your minds to the uncertainty of life and try to see into the fog that surrounds your futures!"

Oliver snorts again.

"Mr. Wood!"

"Sorry." He looks down and says nothing else until his cup is empty. He puts it upside-down onto its saucer and waits. Soon after, Percy's done, too. They look at their cups for a few minutes.

Oliver glances at him, then. "Hey, Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"How long are we supposed to keep them like this for?"

"Until the tea drains away." Oliver watches Percy absently trace the pattern on the tablecloth where gold and navy-colored thread cuts across the pastel blue silk. "You've been here for four years, why can't you remember?"

"Because I've got an O in this class without even trying," Oliver says predictably, because this is an old argument. "This is my best class, right after flying!"

"I don't understand why you're taking it." Percy shakes his head. "You're just wasting your time here."

"Ah, but I'm spending that time with you." Oliver bats his eyelashes at Percy. "You get to take an obnoxious amount of useless classes, I get to get good grades without studying—everyone wins!"

Percy rolls his eyes, as he always does, but the tips of his ears turn red. Oliver blames Percy's genetics—his siblings blush so easily, too—and not Percy himself. After all, Oliver's compliments are never taken as anything other than jest, even if he always fully means them. It's easy to pretend, though: to pretend that he's joking, that his heart doesn't skip a beat whenever he meets Percy's eyes, that he doesn't have a completely hopeless crush on his closest friend.

"I think the cups are ready," Percy says quickly, jarring Oliver out of his thoughts.

"I'll take your word for it." Oliver's tone is bland, but he's desperately happy for the change of topic. He takes Percy's cup and looks inside. "According to the lovely mud-colored tea leaves in here, your future is wet and cold."

"I want you to use your copy of  _Advanced Divination, Grade III_ , pages 37 to 69, to interpret the tea leaves," Trelawney says as she begins to walk among the students. "This is unlike anything you've done in this class before. The technique is the same, but the thought and talent you put into your tea leaves is much more advanced. Not that talent is all it takes. Uncover your Inner Eye!"

Oliver looks into Percy's cup. He's trying, he really is, but it's just soggy tea leaves. Across the table, Percy looks to be having as much luck—Merlin knows how they got into NEWT-level Divination and why they decided to stay there—but at least he's got his book open.

He scoots closer and leans across Percy's elbow to look at page 38.

Percy looks at him. They're so close, their faces are almost touching. "Yes, Oliver?"

"Just looking." Oliver studies the page. "My bad. Apparently, your future's going to erupt into flames."

Percy looks at the shape Oliver's pointing out. It's a lopsided circle; Oliver has no idea how Seers manage to get  _flame eruption_  out of it.

Oliver sees him switch his attention to the picture next to it. It's vaguely rhombus-like, with a few tea leaves separate from the big clump. Percy points at it and smiles. "And you're going to drown at the age of twenty-two."

"Wow." Oliver raises his eyebrows as he studies the picture. "That's bleak."

Percy nods. "I'm not wrong, though. You told me you got into NEWTs by predicting that you're going to die from a disease you get from a mermaid."

"Never let it be said that I'm not creative," Oliver replies, remembering his exam. "And don't worry about the mermaid, I'll never betray you."

Percy rolls his eyes. "You're quite the romantic."

Oliver nods, inwardly sighing. He'd give anything for actual romance, for flowers and love and all that other stuff, with  _Percy._  But Percy always laughs away his flirtation, and while that hurts, maybe it's for the best. He goes back to studying Percy's tea leaves—and studying Percy himself out of the corner of his eye.

Percy's squinting into Oliver's cup, trying to decipher Oliver's tea leaves, but he's not as concentrated as he usually is; he's not squinting, he's not fidgeting, and his hair—which he messes up when he's thinking—is curling around his ears.

Try as he might, Oliver sees nothing else in his cup. He rests it on the saucer with a look of defeat. "I don't think you have a future, Perce."

Percy's lips quirk into a small smile. "Really?"

"Really. If you want me to make something up…" he trails off and shrugs, then dramatically looks into the teacup. "A handsome stranger is going to approach you at midnight with a bouquet of roses and will give you the adventure of a lifetime."

"And then it's going to turn out to be a prank from my brothers." Percy shakes his head, laughing. "I think I'll pass on the romance."

Divination is the only class Percy allows himself to goof off in, and Oliver knows it's because of him. It's the one elective class they have with each other that they're not stressed about as NEWT students—he still doesn't know why they're there, but it's fun and easy and they get to spend time together—so he takes advantage of the jokes and laughter.

"Pass on the romance?" Oliver asks. "Completely."

"Completely."

It would be a shame if Percy Weasley were to withdraw from the world. He makes a sound of regret. "I wish you wouldn't."

Percy's ears go red again. "Why's that?"

"You'd devastate our lovely Miss Clearwater, for one." Oliver knows there wasn't anything  _really_ between them, just some kisses, but it's fun to tease. "And I think that fifth year Hufflepuff Prefect was crushing on you."

Percy rolls his eyes; the blush seems to have momentarily subsided. "She was just asking for directions to the library."

"She's a Prefect, she doesn't need directions."

"Oh." Percy laughs. "I see. You're right, then. And thank you for not giving one of your absurd speeches."

Oliver mock gasps. "Whatever do you mean?"

Percy rolls his eyes, as he is wont to do. "Your compliments. You know, when you're playing about and start spouting about why you love me. One would think my brothers spiked your food with love potion."

"Please," Oliver snorts without thinking. He smiles warmly and says, "I don't need to be bewitched to be attracted to you."

The moment Percy doesn't respond, he knows he's been found out. It's one thing to laugh, but he was completely serious—more than that, he hadn't been hiding his sincerity. Percy's blushing now, but Oliver barely thinks about that, because  _why can't the floor open up and swallow him?_

"I didn't—" he starts to say. He doesn't finish. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Percy squeaks. "It's fine. I just… sorry. Lost track of myself for a minute, can't believe I thought you were serious… absolutely absurd… look, can we just forget that?"

"Er…" Oliver swallows. On one hand, he desperately wants to forget blurting out to his crush that he likes him, and on the other… "What do you mean, you can't believe that I was being serious?"

"Well… it's obvious." Percy laughs almost nervously. "You always say it, and it doesn't matter, but the way you looked and you  _smiled_ , and  _Merlin_ … but it doesn't matter. My mistake."

Oh.  _Oh._  Oliver grins again—Percy blushes further at that, he notices, with nervousness, but Oliver doesn't pay much attention to that. "You like me back!"

"I—"

"This is better than when McGonagall said I could play for the House!" Oliver bursts out with enthusiasm, because now that he thinks about it, he understands: their banter, their hidden flirting, the way Percy blushed randomly when they were talking, the way they hugged more than was necessary.

"Boys!"

Oliver guiltily looks up. "Sorry, Professor. Percy just read that I was going to get trampled by a gargoyle when I would be vacationing in Greece."

"Oh." Trelawney smiles. "Good work, Mr. Weasley."

She walks away and Oliver grins, tea leaves forgotten "Good work, Mr. Weasley, indeed. We're going to have a nice talk about this later—and figure out that we've been wasting a tremendous amount of time pining when we could have been dating—but for now: do you want to be my tentative boyfriend?"

Percy's answering grin and bright red face is all he needs, but it certainly helps when Percy says, "Yes, I'd love that."


End file.
